


riding in cars with boys

by fortymaliks



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:45:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortymaliks/pseuds/fortymaliks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve been talked to about this, about “how to act whilst riding in the back of hired cars”, sitting across the table from Harry’s publicist while Nick looked sheepish and Harry frowned at her. He supposes they can’t really blame her, after the last few times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	riding in cars with boys

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to justchelle for reading this over for me. <3 I wrote this today after [this](http://oi57.tinypic.com/1444en8.jpg), [this](http://oi58.tinypic.com/egbmuq.jpg), and [this](http://oi59.tinypic.com/a2rck8.jpg) happened.

  


Harry can feel the inertia of the car as it slows to a stop. He can’t stop himself from leaning forward slowly, in an almost miniscule way, as if that’ll help him see Nick sooner. It’s ridiculous, really, how eager he is for Nick’s tired grin, but it’s been a few weeks and Harry’s more than ready for this.

It’s not even a minute, and then Nick is folding himself into the car, flashes going off over his shoulder as he climbs in. He hasn’t yet met Harry’s eyes, but he’s laughing around his “hiya” as he struggles to get the door closed behind him.

Harry keeps himself firmly glued to the spot, all of his effort concentrated on keeping himself still so that he doesn’t launch himself across the car into Nick’s lap. He wants to so bad; wants to twist his hands into the soft leather of Nick’s jacket and press his nose into Nick’s collarbone until the scent of him is all Harry can process. His fingers twitch against the upholstery of the back seat, though, and he holds back.

They’ve been talked to about this, about “how to act whilst riding in the back of hired cars”, sitting across the table from Harry’s publicist while Nick looked sheepish and Harry frowned at her. He supposes they can’t really blame her, after the last few times. When they’ve had a few pints (or thirteen shots, but neither of them are counting), Nick starts to seek and cling. Nick knows how much Harry loves feeling his hands on him, and after Nick’s been drinking, his long, deft fingers wrap more easily around any part of Harry’s body he can get ahold of. Harry distinctly remembers Nick’s hand gripped tightly around his bicep, fingers digging creases into the blue plaid of his Hanson shirt, his mouth falling open and eyes glazing over as they shoved themselves into the back of their car that night after Poppy’s.

There was post-Brits, too, Harry remembers, the photos of Nick’s hand over his on the back of the seats. They hadn’t even been sitting in the same row of the car, then, but Harry remembers how he’d felt, alcohol making his need to touch Nick somewhere, somehow, even worse. He remembers the relief when Nick had grasped the hand Harry had offered, squeezing slightly, voice pitched low to mutter, “almost home, popstar”.

Harry thinks that maybe of all the lectures they’ve gotten (“How Not To Follow Your Boyfriend To Work Every Night”, “Crowding Nick Up Against His Front Door When There Are Paps About”, “Saying Harry’s Name Every Five Minutes On Radio”...), the car one is the worst.

Nick’s saying something about Sara, something about the cold weather, but Harry’s not listening. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and stares at it to stop himself from staring at Nick, at least while the flashes are still blinding him from outside the windows of the car.

“Missed you,” Nick says, quietly, around a smile. Harry looks up, then, and he’s probably never wanted to touch Nick as badly as he does right now. Nick’s looking at him fondly, and maybe Nick knows how hard it is for Harry to stay still, inches that feel like miles stretching between them. They’ve been actual miles apart; oceans, even, but somehow this feels harder.

Nick holds his gaze for a beat, and then Harry laughs helplessly, because it’s been a few weeks since they’ve been in the same place, and though it’s not even close to the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other, it still feels like forever.

It isn’t until the car pulls away from the curb, leaving the pops and shutters in the distance that Harry lets his hand rest on the seat between them, palm up so that it’s offered up to Nick.

Every muscle in his body relaxes, liquefying when Nick slides his fingers over Harry’s wrist to clasp their hands together. Nick’s thumb presses into Harry’s pulse, sweeping lightly over the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrist, and Harry lets himself sink back, his breath evening out with the knowledge that all’s right with the world.

**Author's Note:**

> //[tumblr](http://fortymaliks.tumblr.com)//[twitter](http://twitter.com/fortymaliks)//


End file.
